Ronald Blythe points out much that appears obvious: the middle-aged don't take the young or old "seriously" and both young and old "wail" indignantly. But if Blythe is right, the issue here isn't simply a problem of ignorance or neglect--something that might be cured by a little more attention to the old and young--but a deeper, more serious perceptual or attitudinal problem that may not have any simple cures.
Blythe says the old and young are "dead serious." He contrasts this "dead seriousness" to middle-age's concern with "inconvenience" and the practical affairs of control and manipulation--politically, sexually, and economically. If the old and young are not "dead serious" about matters of convenience or control, they are "dead serious" about their "great passions," their "incaution," their "life and breath." And we could all probably benefit from some great passion in our lives--some incaution at times when we suck in our feelers and hibernate in the drought. We could all enjoy life and breath without worrying about the BOTTOM LINE or the STATUS QUO or SECURITY or effectiveness of our fondue.
The problem, of course, is that middle-age rewards us with a certain amount of power--with political, sexual, and economic control--and maybe a little wisdom. We learn, for instance, that we're mortal and we grow old. We learn that time is finite; that it's no fun to feel our skin get loose and watch other people out there planning vacations and building new houses. And after a while, old folks (not real old folks, of course) get a little power: they control their bank accounts; they boss youngsters around; they talk about risk and failure and "track records" and assert the right to tell stories about when they were young and had to do whatever they had to do. And it's hard to give up that power and control if we believe in our pretentious little hearts that we deserve and need that power and control. (How can the pretentious actually understand their pretentions if they believe their "pretensions"? Dammit that's hard.) How can a George Bush or a Margaret Thatcher, for instance, understand or even conceive of "great passions" caught up as they are in affairs of state and business and the threats of the little people down there gnawing on their legs? How can Ronald McDonald or Vanna White really worry about "life and breath" as they spin the wheel of fortune for a lifetime supply of nylon carpeting or new cars for little frenzied contestants on network gameshows? How can all those happy, satisfied, sincere well-meaning Whitman students out there waiting to graduate and looking for the BIG PAYOFF have the time in their middle-age for incaution or inconvenience once they buy into the BIG PAYOFF? (There's always tomorrow, I suppose. Always tomorrow . . .)
So we too can bewail the problem and point out the obvious--that the
old and young ain't got no respect and of respect they got none. And
maybe we might get somebody to pass a little legislation to keep the young
off the streets and into Star Wars research or maybe babysitting or give old
geezers a wonderful, polite place to die or cheap live-in nurses. But we'll
probably never be able to do more until we are willing to buy out of our
belief that it's good to control people; that it's best to be wealthy and sleek;
that it's essential to work hard and become recognized in an unstable world
in a universe too big to comprehend.